Seduction After Class

Fracture

✤ Adrian ✤

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the radiator and the scratching of my pen across paper. A cup of cold coffee sat forgotten beside me, and I leaned back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. The essays sprawled across my desk were all on The Ethics of Passion, ironic, given the current state of my life. Most of them were the same: predictable arguments, half-hearted insights. I tried to focus, as I circled words and added brief comments in the margins. It was easier to concentrate on other people’s words than my own thoughts. Then I heard the front door open, and I didn’t even need to look to find out who it was. Only one person would enter without knocking. I got to my feet and turned to face her.

“Marina,” I said flatly. “You should have called,” my wife stood in the doorway of my study, framed by the late afternoon light. Her platinum hair was pulled into a neat twist, with a few strands that fell loosely around her face.

“I was nearby,” she remarked lightly as she walked in as if she still somehow belonged here. She didn’t. “I thought I would just stop by,”

“For what?” I questioned. “We agreed, Marina. You moved out, and there is no reason for you to stop by,”

“I came to talk, Adrain,” she snapped, and that made me laugh under my breath.

“Talk about what?”

“I wanted to know if you have changed your mind,” she said, and I stared at her in disbelief.

“Changed my mind about what?” I asked as I pretended not to know. I already knew, and my original answer hadn’t changed.

“Look, Adrian. I know how badly I messed up…but having an open relationship…I still love you,” she said, and I was tempted to be a total teenager and roll my eyes. I didn’t. Instead, I turned back to my desk and organized the papers I had been grading. I wasn’t even going to comment on her small declaration of still loving me. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe her. “It doesn’t have to be Gabriel. It can be with whoever you want. And it doesn’t even have to be another man. It can be a woman if you would prefer. Just…everyone can be happy with no guilt and lies,”

“We already discussed this, Marina,” I said as I slowly turned to face her. “Your affair with Gabriel tore this marriage apart. Six years…Marina…six years and you didn’t think to bring up the fact that you wanted an open relationship? No. Instead, I found you in our bed with another man. Your art consultant. A critic. I mean…what more do you want from me?”

“I just thought that maybe some time apart would give you a chance to change your mind. To consider it,” she said, but I shook my head. “You are being impossible, Adrian. I am trying to be reasonable,”

“Reasonable?” I repeated. My voice sharper than I had intended. “You had an affair. You cheated on me. And what? You want me to applaud you for it?”

“Don’t twist this into something cruel. I told you what I needed. You were the one who refused to even try,” Marina said, and I stared at her. I didn’t even have the words to describe how angry she made me. Marina believed she wasn’t wrong. That this was supposed to be an opportunity to spice up our marriage. I, on the other hand, hadn’t even realized our marriage needed spicing up. Until, of course, I caught her with him in our bed.

“Marina, you wanted freedom, and now you have it. You live above your gallery. You see him whenever you like. What else do you want from me?” I questioned. Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before she met my eyes again.

“We don’t have to destroy each other, Adrian. We could…we could have an open relationship. We could…be with other people without the guilt. We could do it together…or a part…” her voice trailed off, and I merely crossed my arms across my chest.

“Marina, it’s over. The only thing I am willing to protect is our reputation. Your gallery. My position at the university. That’s it. Nothing more. We aren’t husband and wife anymore. We aren’t even friends,”

“Adrian, we can still salvage this,”

“Stop,” I said as I put up my hand. Marina sighed loudly, and I knew that this was over. She would probably come back, but for now, it is over.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” she whispered. I watched as she turned away and walked out. Her perfume lingered in the air, and I groaned in frustration.

“f*****g hell,” I muttered as I sat back down and picked up my pen. I tried to focus, but the words all blurred together.

The Ethics of Passion.

I laughed quietly to myself. The irony was unbearable. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The house felt heavier now, filled with ghosts of arguments and silence. I wondered when exactly it had gone wrong. Maybe long before Gabriel. Maybe when art became more important to her than conversation. Or maybe when I stopped trying to understand her world because it no longer felt like mine. I looked at the clock. Nearly eight. I should have kept grading, but the thought of reading another student’s essay on desire made me tired. And then, without meaning to, I thought of her.

Sera.

The name came uninvited but stayed. I could see her sitting in the classroom, that quiet defiance in her eyes, the way her lips curved when she spoke.

Forbidden romance.

The phrase echoed in my head. I tried to push it away, but it clung. She had said it so casually, almost teasingly. I had spent the last few days pretending not to think about her. Pretending not to notice the way she looked at me. Now, alone, there was no need to pretend. I thought of the tilt of her head, the way her hair had caught the light when she smiled. I remembered how calm she had been when the rest of the class had laughed awkwardly. My hand drifted to the edge of my desk, and I absently traced a line in the wood grain. What kind of student speaks that freely? What kind of man lets it get under his skin? I had told myself it meant nothing. A student being provocative. But even now, the memory stirred something I didn’t want to name. Thinking about Sera now, after arguing with Marina, felt almost like relief. Marina had always made me feel like a man who failed to meet expectations. Sera made me feel noticed. I pushed the thought away, but it didn’t move. She was too young, too bold, and too dangerous. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the way her lips had shaped those words. My body betrayed me. A dull heat stirred low in my stomach. I swallowed hard and leaned back, pressing my palms to my thighs. It was absurd. I was married, no matter how broken that marriage was. She was a student. The line between us wasn’t blurred, it was carved in stone.

And yet...

The memory of her voice, her steady gaze, the subtle challenge in it. All of it came back, stronger now that the house was quiet again. I shifted in my chair, irritated with myself. I had no right to feel this. No excuse for it. My hand moved absently to adjust the growing tightness in my trousers, and I cursed under my breath. My cheeks felt hot. I pushed the papers aside, stood, and crossed to the window. The last of the daylight had faded, leaving only the faint glow of the streetlamps below. I rested my hand against the glass. The coolness steadied me, but only for a moment. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. What I was becoming. But I knew one thing with painful clarity, whatever line I thought I had drawn between right and wrong, it was beginning to crack.

✤ ✤ ✤